


What if I Forget?

by librarian_of_velaris



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Light Angst, Love/Hate, post-Empire of Storms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 18:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15756906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/librarian_of_velaris/pseuds/librarian_of_velaris
Summary: Lysandra will sacrifice anything for her queen without question, and has taken on her form while she's still captured by Maeve. But one thing frightens her: what if she forgets her own body?





	What if I Forget?

Aelin had been gone for one month. Four weeks. 28 days.

Lysandra had been keeping count, praying to the Gods each day that she’d get word that Rowan had found her and was bringing her home. Bringing her queen, her best friend, home.

In the meantime, though, she was stuck in this body.  _Aelin’s body._

She didn’t mind. Not really. Not when it meant that the Kingdom of Terrasen believed they had their queen. Aelin made her promise to keep up the ruse. It was vital that their armies had a leader—or believed they did; it could mean the difference between winning and losing this rutting war. And without Aelin, without having someone to believe in…Terrasen could very well crumble.

So she would protect her friend’s kingdom. Help to rule in place of her, at least, until Aelin returned. And she  _would_ return. Eventually. Rowan wouldn’t let his wife die at the hands of Maeve. He couldn’t. And Lysandra didn’t give herself time to even consider what would happen if Aelin didn’t come back.

Or if she died forging the lock.

Lysandra had made this promise to her friend knowing full-well that Aelin expected to die.  _The Queen Who Was Promised_ —to the Gods. A queen destined to sacrifice everything to forge a lock, to send the Valg and the Gods back to whatever damned dimension they’d come from. To finish what Elena had gotten in the way of.

Aelin was ready to die and had trusted Lysandra with her kingdom. Well, her  _and_ Rowan. Mostly Rowan. But she would be the queen, play the part as Aelin requested. For her friend.

But Aelin wouldn’t die. Couldn’t die.  

At least, Lysandra hoped.

Aelin deserved to rule her kingdom, to settle and live happily with her mate. She deserved it all, and Lysandra could only hope that there was some way she would survive. So between acting the part of queen and handling the armies alongside Aelin’s court, she was researching the lock. Looking for anything, even a sliver of an idea, that proved Aelin could live through this.

She hadn’t found anything yet. But she still searched every day, still  _hoped._

Lysandra would not lose that hope. Not until Aelin returned and safely forged the lock, finally claiming her birthright as Queen of Terrasen.

Until then, she was prepared to play the part. Even if it brought the ire of one male in particular. Aedion.

She still hadn’t forgotten the last words he’d said to her.

_You can go to hell, you lying bitch._

Aedion hadn’t spoken to her since, save for the formalities of war. Armies, battlegrounds, he’d discuss strategy, but when it came to what she’d done, why she’d done it…he wasn’t willing to hear her. To  _listen._

She understood his anger. He loved his cousin and wanted to see her on the throne. And to see Lysandra impersonate her every day, ever the perfect imposter, it had to have hurt.

But he never bothered to ask her  _why_ she did it, or why Aelin had asked—begged—for her to. Lysandra had wanted to tell Aedion before Aelin was taken. She’d pleaded with Aelin, knowing he’d be upset. Aelin refused,  _he would try to stop it_ , she said,  _he’d claim there was another way._ _But this is it._ She was resigned to her fate, ready to face it. Lysandra kept her promise, no matter how much it killed her to hide it from Aedion. No matter the consequences, she would stay loyal to her friend. Her relationship with Aedion was a small sacrifice to make. Though it still hurt like hell to see him suffering,  _angry_.

She wanted so badly to talk to him, to explain everything from start to finish. Maybe he wouldn’t hate her so much if he knew why. If he knew that neither Lysandra nor Aelin wanted to keep this from him, but did it out of necessity.  

Until he was ready to talk, though, there wasn’t much she could do. She couldn’t force a conversation like this…not until he was ready. She  _wouldn’t_ force it.

***

Some days, being Aelin was hard. She’d been told to keep her form at all times—just in case—and most of the time, Lysandra didn’t mind. She liked being able to see her friend when she looked in the mirror, even though it was just herself. But it gave her hope, reminded her that Aelin was out there, somewhere, fighting, while they searched for her.

But other days, Lysandra found herself missing her body, her green eyes, her dark hair, even her fuller bust. Those days, she would shift back to herself and stare into the mirror, reminding herself of who she was. There would come a day when she could return to this body, and she refused to let herself forget it.

Today was one of those days. They were out on the sea, not a ship in sight aside from their armies, and aside from their loyal crew, Aedion and Lysandra were the only ones on the ship. It had been a week since she’d seen her old body and she missed it. She’d shifted as soon as she woke up, her dark hair flowing over her shoulders once again.

And then she went about her day—as Lysandra.

It started with breakfast, brought to her—well, Aelin’s—door. The crew had been instructed to leave it at the door, so Lysandra opened it, grabbed the tray, and devoured the meal.

As Aelin, she’d walk along the deck, chatting with crew and army commanders and the like, but today she was not Aelin. She was Lysandra.

And she wanted to feel the sea-salt breeze run through her hair, her body.

She could come up with an excuse for being on the ship, she thought as she stepped through the door of her room and walked towards the stairs, up to the main deck. She nearly got to the top, were it not for a pair of hands that pulled her back.

Lysandra whipped her head around. “What are—”

She noticed the blonde hair first. Then the turquoise eyes with the ring of gold.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” Aedion whispered, his eyes narrowed at her, “not like… _that._ ”

She sighed. Wanting to enjoy the breeze—as herself—probably wasn’t an adequate excuse. So she let Aedion lead her back to her room, plan foiled.

Aedion’s anger was palpable as he slammed the door shut to her room. “ _What were you thinking, Lysandra. Talk. Now.”_

“I…I miss myself, my  _body._  I had thought—it’s dumb, I know—but I thought maybe just once I could have a day as myself. As  _Lysandra,_ instead of Aelin. Since there wasn’t anyone on the ship but us…” she trailed off, her voice growing quieter with every word.

“You know how irresponsible that was. How  _risky._ If anyone discovered—”

“I know Aedion, I know. I made a mistake.”

“A mistake that could have cost us the war!”

Silver lined her eyes. “I’m sorry, Aedion. I am. I’ll shift back now. I won’t—I won’t shift again. Ever. I just…I didn’t want to forget.”  

“Lys…” he said, “you didn’t want to forget?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Lysandra told him, and turned away, ready to shift back to Aelin’s body.

He grabbed her hand, stopping her. “Tell me.”

“No.”

“Lysandra, talk to me. Please.”

Lysandra’s blood boiled. “Why would you want to?  _You hate me._ You’ve said as much. There’s nothing to talk about.”

Aedion looked like he’d been shot, his eyes wide. “I don’t hate you, Lys,” he breathed, “how could I ever hate you?”

“Do you not remember what you said? You called me a  _lying bitch._ You haven’t spoken to me in weeks, save for military discussions _._ You made yourself perfectly clear where you stand when it comes to me, Aedion.”

“I…” he stepped closer to Lysandra, taking her hands in his. “I was angry, yes…I am angry, still, I think, but I’m trying to understand. I’m trying to forgive. I’m  _trying,_ Lys _._ ”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” she muttered.

“I reacted badly. I know. But…help me understand. Please. Help me now.”

Lysandra looked up at him. “You’ll listen?”

He nodded. “I will.”

So she told him. Explained why Aelin had asked her to do this, had told her not to tell her cousin. She told him of how she desperately wanted to share the information with him, the person she trusted most. How it broke her heart to keep a secret such as this from him. And then she told him how much it hurt when he called her a lying bitch, how angry she’d become, and how she’d channeled that anger into becoming Aelin, embodying the power and regality of their queen.

“You do make a good Aelin,” he joked after she’d finished. “But…I get it. I get why you couldn’t say anything. If it were me, I would’ve done the same. And I’m sorry, for how I reacted. What I said.”

“Thank you” was all she could say.  

“Lys, can I ask you something?” Aedion said tentatively, but continued anyway, “when you said you didn’t want to forget, what did you mean?”

A tear ran down her cheek. “I didn’t want to forget  _me_ , Lysandra. Who I am. It’s…It’s why I’ve been shifting back into myself sometimes. I don’t want to forget this body—me—like I did when I was younger.”

Aedion pulled her into an embrace. “I’ll never forget you, Lys. Even if you’re Aelin forever, you’re still Lysandra. No amount of shifting can change that. Or make anyone forget  _you._ ”

“But what if I forget?”

“You won’t. You and I will make sure of that.”

Lysandra didn’t know how long she sat there, in Aedion’s arms, crying. But he let her, and when she was done, he promised her that they would find a way to let her walk around on deck, on land, as herself. As Lysandra.

She was grateful for his kind words, though how realistic it was, she didn’t know. Lysandra could hope, though, and with her friend back in her life—with someone to talk to—she wasn’t so worried that she’d forget herself, after all.

Lysandra was grateful to have her friend—to have Aedion—back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I have so much more I'd like to explore with these characters, so stay tuned.
> 
> xoxo, 
> 
> Zoe


End file.
